


Killing is kindness

by keine_angst



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Margate, Post-Season/Series 04, Tommy doesn't know what he's doing, as always, at least Alfie is doing fine, they are so stupid i love them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:56:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23891200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keine_angst/pseuds/keine_angst
Summary: He couldn't  accept the fact, that, perhaps, he found a peace of mind in the figure of Solomons. Instead, he tried to be strong for once and swing it the way he usually did - by getting rid of him, as if killing him was the same as forgetting him.After shooting at the beach, Tommy got severely injured. He wants to got to Margate and finish Alfie off - except it's not that easy.
Relationships: Tommy Shelby/Alfie Solomons
Comments: 8
Kudos: 50





	Killing is kindness

**Author's Note:**

> This idea woke me up the other night and I just had to put it into words. My writing is probably the chaos at its finest, but I don't really care.  
> This is set after s4 e6, with a little twist - Tommy is the one who got hurt in Margate, and Alfie is doing just fine.

_Alfie, look at me. Look at me. Look at me, Alfie_.

He looked at him. And then there was just darkness.

***

Tommy was drifting somewhere in the middle of the ocean of unconcious dreams, seeing awful things, imagining the hell he was going to. And he saw the chaos - the colours, the shapes, the lines, the splashes - like playing with caleidoscope that got out of hands, and he couldn't stop it. He tried to predict how his family would react to the news that he's dead - dead and killed by the only man he ever feared.

And suddenly he felt like he was collapsing, hitting the ground, and he started breathing again.

***

The awareness that he, in fact, wasn't dead, disappointed him. He came terrifyingly close to death on multiple occasions, and this time he was sure his miserable life definitely came to an end, but it did not. He woke up two days after the incident in Margate, in the hospital, and his first question, as soon as he was able to talk again, was: "What happened to Alfie?"

He wasn't sure if he was relieved or angry when he learned Solomons was doing fine - or at least better than him. He managed to shot the Jew in his leg, which meant he now probably was unable to walk properly, but he got used to using a cane way before, so it wasn't that much of a change for him. Tommy, on the other hand, took the bullet to his chest - fortunately for him, not close enough to his heart nor any important artery, which saved his life. Nevertheless, he got severly injured and he needed some time to pull through.

Shelby was semiconcious for a number of days, barely even aware what was going on around him. He was taking a lot of drugs so as to his body could regenerate, and not to feel terrible pain all the time - he was sleeping nights and days, waking up from time to time just to fall asleep again, unable to endure too much of this suffering. It took him almost three weeks to recover to the point where he could stand on his feet without falling down to the floor. Only then was he even able to formulate any thoughts and started making up a plan of getting revenge.

He wanted to go to Margate and finish Alfie off - how the hell could this man still breathe after all of this? He didn't deserve to be alive, and so did Tommy. It would be better if they both died that ill-fated day. Now, as they both were still very much alive, things got complicated. One of them needed to be dead in order to the other one could sleep peacefully at last.

***

The problem was, the killing of Alfie Solomons - or rather the aim to kill him - was the dumbest idea Tommy could think of. Not because it was dangerous to point a gun at someone like him - Shelby was used to fighting powerful people, he wasn't afraid as he arrived at the beach - but because his intentions to do it weren't clear, even for himself. It wasn't because of bad blood, like Alfie said - it was because of his own blood, that betrayed him and everything he believed in, because of his fucked up mind, that was trying to cut himself off from this man, while constantly thinking about him at the same time.

He couldn't get him out of his head for so long now, it felt almost like the eternity. It was worse than the thoughts about Grace, that he had shortly after her death - those he could obliterate with alcohol and opium. But Solomons made himself comfortable in the back of his head and he didn't seem to be willing to leave this place anytime soon. He didn't love him - or at least he belived he didn't - but he started to think that this is too much, that he cannot deal with him anymore. He was getting soft as soon as he was meeting him - Alfie redounded on him and he wasn't happy about it, but couldn't fight it. He couldn't let himself act like this, being under his influence, taking wrong decision just because he cared about this madman more than he cared about himself.

Shelby had spent his entire life fighting people that were stronger and more powerful than him, challenging himself, becoming more and more forceful - to the point where he couldn't tell what he was trying to prove to himself. And eventually he found Alfie - he was the one and only man he couldn't defeat.

Tommy was just too weak to admit in front of himself that he was falling for this man - he was scared of his own feelings, that were growing slowly deep inside his soul. He couldn't accept the fact, that, perhaps, he found a peace of mind in the figure of Solomons. Instead, he tried to be strong for once and swing it the way he usually did - by getting rid of him, as if killing him was the same as forgetting him.

Except it wasn't that easy. Not only did he failed at killing him, but also he didn't manage to stop thoughts about him from appearing out of nowhere in his head. He reached the point of no return - he had to retry this attempt, or else he would go mad.

***

Shelby was still weak and barely able to function as a human being, but he had to go to Margate as soon as possible. Every second he lingered felt like a nightmare impossible to endure. He left the hospital, still feeling sick and semiconcious because of the medicines, and without even consulting this decision with anyone, he took his car and started driving to the south.

Tommy was so faint that he thought he was going to die on the way, before even arriving in Margate, which would make the entire situation ridiculous. That would be the most unfulfilling death imaginable - in the middle of the road, heading to face his enemy. What a shame. He had to stop multiple times to get some rest before continuing the driving - during one of them he almost changed his mind and gave up his plan, because his lungs seemed to be about to explode, he was suffocating, his head rested on the steering wheel, his fists clenched at he dashboard, almost crying from the unbearable pain. But he would rather die attempting this murder than come back to Birmingham - it was too late, he already made the choice and was determined to do his thing.

As he arrived in Margate, it was late in the evening and he was exhausted. Tommy doubted he would be even capable of getting back to Birmingham after finishing what he was going to do. But as for now, he couldn't focus on the feeling of weakness, because he needed to deal with something before the drugs would overpower his body and make him numb.

To his pleasant surprise, Alfie's housekeeper let him in without asking any unnecessary questions. She guided Shelby inside, to the reception room, but he didn't find the Jew in here - he was resting on the balcony overlooking the sea. The setting was more than perfect - Solomons was sitting there in an armchair, probably unarmed, turned in the opposite direction, so he couldn't even see who was approaching him. Shelby didn't bother to announce his presence, moving closer furtively, not making any sound. He pulled the gun out of the holster, cocking it with his thumb, as quietly as he could. Alfie didn't even move as he put it against the back of his head - he was sitting still, seemingly unimpressed, but younger man could hear him breathing sharply, as he felt the cold barrel on his occiput.

"Good evening, Alfie" Tommy said, and he was surprised to notice that his hand wasn't shaking. The first time he attemted killing him, he was trembling all over, and that was one of the reasons why he missed the shot. Now he was holding the gun stably, in the proper position - if he pulled the trigger this moment, the Jew would be dead the next second. But he didn't - he hesitated long enough to enable him to answer to the greeting.

"Yeah, it is," he replied, his voice hoarse from the cool evening breeze. Shelby wasn't sure why he faltered for so long, but his indecision caused Alfie's talking. "So, you've grown up and now you don't want to look me in the face as you're doing it, mate?"

"Shut up," Tommy whispered through his teeth, "just stop fucking talking."

"Why, my dear? Don't you want to exchange a few words with your friend before you kill him?" he continued in his typical manner of speaking, still turned back at him, and younger man just felt he was about to lose it. "That's not a nice treating. You could, at least, look me into eyes and explain why do you want me dead."

"Because you almost killed me too," Shelby tried not to lift his voice, because this could alarm the housekeeper, but it was getting out of hand. "I almost fucking died because of you."

"Well, that's not a good argument, because it was you who wanted to fire at me in the first place" Alfie remained calm through this entire exchange, which made Tommy even more infuriated. The fact that his whole body was frozen, his muscles couldn't move for hell as soon as he heard the Jew talking, got on his nerves - he was fighting with himself in similar situations many times before, trying to get over him, not to let him take control over the conversation, but he always was failing in the end, just as he did now.

Shut your mouth," Shelby repeated, feeling helpless, "or else I'm going to shoot you, and you'll never speak up again."

"Oh, you're such a _pussy_ ," he emphasized this last word to make it even more insulting, "you cannot even bear looking at me while you're pulling that trigger, not to even mention that you have no reason for that."

Tommy didn't know why he took a step forward to face him - his body betrayed his mind once again - but as he did, Solomons rose up so rapidly that he couldn't react, rooted to the spot. The Jew bumped at him, knocking the gun out of his hand - it fell over the guardrail - and within a blink of an eye he wrapped his arms around Shelby's shoulders, forbidding him to move even a bit. He tried to break free, kicking and yanking, but Alfie was holding him firmly, he could feel his warm breath on his nape, his muscles tightening around his body more and more with his every thrust. It was pointless to fight him - he was stronger, could choke him with his bare hands if he wanted to, especially now.

"Get off me," Tommy whispered - he wanted this to sound like an order, but he was short of breath, so it came across as an entreaty, "fucking let me go."

"Not until you calm down" Alfie announced, and there was something dangerously portentous in his voice, that made Shelby shiver. He could easily break his neck or force him out through the guardrail if he lost his temper. "Stop fighting me."

Tommy thought that he would most certainly fight him if he could, but he felt he was about to come over faint - drugs, weariness and Alfie's arms smothering him and hindering his breath weren't helping. Before he could articulate anything, he fainted, and the last thing he heard before falling into darkness, was a frantically whispered "Fuck."

***

He woke up on the couch in the reception room, in his clothes, covered with a warm blanket, feeling dizzy. Solomons was sitting on a chair by the coffee table, drinking tea and reading a newspaper. Tommy tried to sit up, but his head felt so heavy, he barely managed to raise it a few inches above the pillow, before leaning back, groaning loudly - the pain accumulated in his body was unbearable. Only now did Alfie notice that he was awake - he put down the journal and looked at him from across the room.

"Morning, mate," he said. Tommy was still processing this entire situation, trying to understand what occured last night, but he couldn't remember anything past his entrance here. "Just in time for breakfast. You drink tea or coffee?"

Shelby sighed heavily, pressing his face against the pillow. He was feeling squeamish and could start throwing up any second. Perhaps his meds could help, but he didn't take them with him when he was leaving for Margate, and now he regretted it. Alfie seemed worried by his suffering - he stood up and approached the couch to put his hand on his forehead.

"You have a temperature," he stated the obvious, "wait a moment." Tommy was panting painfully as he searched for something in one of the cabinets. "There you are," he said, handing him some pills, "I was taking these after a surgery, they surely will help."

Shelby wasn't sure if he trusted him to the point where he could take medicine that he gave him - it could have been something poisonous - but he was aching all over and he just needed something that would help him relieve a little, so he decided to take it. Alfie brought him a glass of water, so he could rinse it down. Having swallowed the pills, he laid back again, slowly regaining some energy.

"You scared me yesterday," Solomons said, "and I don't mean the gun you pointed to the back of my head, but this fainting of yours." Of course he had to emphasize that he was not afraid of him, he couldn't help himself. "You're still suffering from this bullet I put in your chest, aren't you?"

Tommy finally put himself together and managed to answer, "I would rather be dead than see you again."

"That's interesting, bearing in mind that you came here before you even recovered," Alfie cut in, as he was always doing, "It seems you missed me more than you could admit, didn't you?" Tommy suddenly felt like suffocating - Solomons' comment sounded weirdly familiar, but he couldn't recall why.

"What did you just say?" he asked.

"Well, you wrote me some letters, from the hospital, I assume" Alfie replied, and for some reason he seemed proud of himself. "You don't remember that you did?"

It was like his worst nightmares came true. Shelby couldn't believe his ears, but at the same time, was it that big of a surprise? He had been unconcious for a number of days, and during that time there was only one thing that occupied his mind - Alfie. It might have happened, but he wouldn't acknowledge it right away.

"I can show you, in case you don't believe me," Solomons said, and Tommy just prayed that he would wake up, finding out that it was just a bad dream, but the longer he was persuading himself that this situation wasn't real, the more it was obvious that it was.

"Fucking hell," he mumbled to himself, as Alfie had left the room. Running away wouldn't help, he would only hide from this man, but not from himself. He wished he could just disappear completely and didn't have to deal with all of this.

Solomons came back, holding a wad of letters. He sat next to Tommy on the couch and handed it to him. Younger man didn't want to see what was written in there, but he was just too curious what his dazed mind and shaking hands could put into words. He opened the first envelope and found a page torn out of a newspaper, dated three weeks back - just shortly after he woke up from his coma. His notes were written with a pencil, across some article, it was hard to decipher the chaotically composed sentences:

_"I fucking hate you, I sure hope you won't be able to walk ever again."_

_"If I had one chance to change the past, I would choose killing you over ressurecting my wife."_

_"Taking your life would be kindness, because no one would suffer at your command ever again."_

_"There's hell for casually bad people like me, and there's place lower than hell for devilish creatures like you."_

It seemed he really was angry at the beginning of his recovery. But then he noticed a note written vertically on the left side of the column:

_"I'm trying to make myself hate you again, but I don't think I'll ever succeed."_

_"I guess I miss you more than I would be able to admit in front of myself._ "

Having read this, Tommy almost dropped the envelopes. He felt trapped in this situation, not quite sure how to explain those letters - sure, he was unsane while writting them, but Solomons knew for sure that there was at least a hint of truth in these sentences - otherwise his beffudled mind wouldn't even think od them.

"How many letters did you get?" he asked, his voice shivering.

"Six or seven, if I recall correctly," was the answer, "every one following this strange pattern - your rambling about your hatred towards me, and then one or two lines, that made me think that you've been on some insanely well working drugs." Tommy tried not to cut in with some insulting comment, but he wouldn't let him speak up anyway. "I only knew that no-feelings-allowed side of your mind, who would have guessed you could get so emotional?"

"I don't remember writing these" Shelby said quietly, staring up at the ceiling, not letting his messy thoughts take over him. "I would never say something like this in a sane state of mind."

Unexpectably, Alfie moved closer to him - Tommy had to drag his legs to his chest in order to make some space for him - and grabbed him gently by the chin to make younger man look at him. Shelby was uncomfortable like this - he knew he's not able to disguise his feelings when the Jew was staring straight into his eyes. He would do something about it, but he was just so ridiculously weak that he couldn't even lower his head, because Solomons held him still, not letting him to do it.

"Why do you always fight everyone and everything?" he asked, and his voice was surprisingly smooth and tender - Tommy never heard him talking like this. "You can hide from me, you can even try hiding from yourself, but in the end, what's the purpose of living like this - always scared and disingenuous?" Shelby sighed heavily as he continued, "I'm just asking you to reconsider what the hell are you doing with your life, because I cannot understand it, and neither do you, I suppose. You're but a wreck of a man, mate."

He finally let Tommy look down and as soon as he wasn't looking at Alfie, he whispered a quiet "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what, dear?" Solomons investigated, "for shooting me? I shot you too. We're both fucked up, mate. It would be better if we both died after that, but as for now, I guess the only thing we can do is to embrace the fact we're alive."

Shelby was sitting still, his arms wrapped around his knees, feeling like a child that had done something utterly bad. At this point, he could sense his anger and angst melting away, leaving him peaceful at last.

Alfie reached his hand to stroke his shoulder in a comforting, friendly gesture. "You're going to stay for breakfast?" he asked.

Tommy wasn't sure why he decided to do it, but he replied with simple "Yes."

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr](https://keine-angst.tumblr.com)


End file.
